Pretty Vacant

Who wears the trousers? Holly Combe doesn't skirt the issue as she analyses society's negative attitudes to "feminine" clothing.

Holly Combe, 16 December 2002

I very rarely wear skirts. One logical reason I often give for this is that I
can move faster and keep warmer in trousers. The thought of returning to an age
where, for a woman, looking smart on formal occasions required the obligatory
wearing of a skirt is not an appealing one and I'm glad feminism put a stop to
this etiquette.

But, then again, I do rather like the way my legs look in a skirt. And when I
recently tried on a few of my under-worn items for size, I was also reminded of
skirts I can move about in with both ease and speed. Along with this, I am
partial to long coats and comfortable chunky heeled boots. This means that
keeping warm in a skirt isn't a problem. Nothing matches a pair of jeans for
comfort but (for an admittedly shorter period of time) I have managed to rush
about in my usual way when wearing things traditionally seen as less
practical.

What makes one simple garment feel so wrong?

So what took me so long getting around to strutting about in my skirt and boots
this season? Why did I feel so uncomfortable in a white floaty dress when I
dressed as the (very demure, apart from the soaking of blood) film character
'Carrie' at Halloween? Why do I avoid wearing a skirt when I meet someone new?
What makes one simple garment feel so wrong?

My current theory on this is that I am experiencing that all too common
contradictory side effect of feminist consciousness - the unfortunate absorption
of the misogynistic idea that wearing a skirt (or, worse still, a dress) is
undermining. I never saw it coming but, at some point, I must have internalised
the cliché that independent dominant people who are in control of their lives
'wear the trousers'.

It is understandable that I have taken on this mantra. After all, I've existed
long enough to come to terms with the fact that what we choose to wear effects
other people's perceptions of us - and unless one plans to completely drop out
of society, being taken seriously by other people is a vital pre-requisite to
success.

I feel that the commonly prescribed profile of a skirt wearer is of someone
rather old-fashioned, who'd maybe rather somebody else took the lead and who
lacks professionalism and drive. It may sound unreasonable when said out loud,
but it's still a common attitude (for example, in a recent 'What not to Wear' on
BBC2, the taxi driver being given a wardrobe makeover hesitated at wearing
dresses and skirts because she associated looking 'feminine' with being
'weaker'). The main problem with this view is that it is scripted in the
presumptuous notion that anyone perceived as pretty, feminine or sexy is playing
a specific role, universally understood by all. The 'post-feminist' assumption
seems to be that any woman who actually chooses to wear the clothes
traditionally associated with being female must also possess the urge to be
subordinated or patronised.

We need to erase these signifiers and I think us feminists are sometimes
amongst
the most guilty of all in applying them. There really is nothing feminist about
deriding, scolding or head-patting women who, according to our own culturally
induced, warped ideas, look 'soft' or 'fragile' (just because they're thin or
petite or wearing a so-called infantilised hairstyle, floral dress, pink etc).
After all, anti-feminists have been doing it for years. Why us as well?

There's nothing radical about tutting at the amount of flesh a
woman chooses to bare

Neither is there anything radical about tutting at the amount of flesh a
woman chooses to bare. If you want everyday proof of the lack of respect that
girls in
short skirts get, now is the perfect time of year to put the theory to the test.
Every winter, you will easily overhear bitchy conversations, between women and
men alike, about the variety of impractical outfits that the local 'tarts' have
been wearing (bare legs, no coat etc) and how pathetic and generally oppressed
they are for doing it. The self-satisfied snobbishness of it all is most
disheartening.

The fact our culture continues to stick the 'Tomboy' label on girls who don't
like make-up and who enjoy pastimes still tediously thought of as 'masculine' is
proof that these signifiers still live on. Rather than enjoying the spectacle of
someone dressing up for the drag it really is (whatever the sex of the wearer)
our society persists in viewing it as the very essence of being female.
Extensive external maintenance and care for one's appearance is still being
mistaken for internal weakness and lack of substance, and - as we know all too
well - weakness has a history of being wrongly attached to the female character.
As I recall Natasha Forrest recently saying to me, 'One of the reasons women
are so devalued in our society is because the body has been devalued and held in
opposition to the mind (with women being associated with the body).'

Our cultural response to the tomboy is loaded with the implication that
'she'll
never actually be a boy but who can blame her for trying?' The tomboy is seen as
a misfit but a force to be reckoned with nonetheless because of her wilful
attempt to transcend the 'feminine'.

Further evidence of this unsatisfactory situation could be seen in a recent
episode of Channel 4's 'Faking It', where a kick boxer being taught to ballroom
dance by a particularly tawdry, condescending and nasty teacher, said she wasn't
used to 'being treated like a girl'. (The two teaching methods this
spectacularly sexist man was capable of employing were very basic: Plan 'A' was
to be 'nice', constantly call his student 'love' and generally patronise her.
The predictable reserved plan 'B', when she objected to this, was simply to
switch to the more openly hostile mode of rudeness and aggression. It didn't
seem to occur to him that it might be possible to be a thorough and fair teacher
without denigrating your pupil. What made it even more irksome was the big
emphasis he put on how 'camp' the business is, as if that would make his
old-school sexism somehow more acceptable or edgy.)

Being treated 'like a girl' is a common euphemism for not being taken
seriously.

Being treated 'like a girl' is a common euphemism for not being taken
seriously.
'Girls' are treated gently and sweetly because of their assumed (or rather,
socially expected) babyishness and vulnerability. Like the kick boxer in 'Faking
it', they are then swiftly punished with a barrage of bitter, resentful rudeness
(which is actually assumed to be just what a girl needs, indeed wants, to keep
her in check) if any independent spirit is shown.

There also seems to be a common assumption, in both heterosexual and gay
culture, that anyone who is excessively 'femme' must be just gagging for someone
'butch' to come along and treat her real mean. But, for me, machismo is
unappealing in either gender. The traits commonly thought of as 'manly', such as
dominance, aggression and wealth do absolutely nothing for me. And when I wear a
skirt, I am not putting out a signal that I have suddenly changed my mind.

Our culture theoretically accepts that both sexes deserve respect and autonomy.
It also partly takes on board the idea of the 'Beauty Myth' and what Greer
talked of in The Female Eunuch as a woman's right to freedom from
'being
the
thing looked at, rather than the person looking back'. However, through this
understanding, we seem to have come to an all or nothing conclusion on women's
right to power and struck an overly stern bargain with those who actively choose
to wear the kind of drag that symbolises femininity, as we know it. We are
encouraged to feel that enjoying admiration for ones looks and costume, whilst
retaining power and status on ones own terms is not fair play or, at the very
least, not a realistic aim. Society seems to say that if you want to be taken
genuinely seriously, the least you can do is be what people think of as
'masculine'.

But a skirt is not a uniform for subordination. Enjoying ones appearance is not
a signal that you wish to be anyone's 'love', 'sweetheart' or 'dear'. And
playing with prettiness does not automatically denote a vacant character.

So, without shame or further justification, I'll be wearing those skirts again
(but, seeing as it's December, I'll be sure to put on some woolly tights as
well,
okay?)